Easter Language

 How do we see ourselves, our neighbors, and the future of our world?  Do we speak the language of despair and complaint as in the following statement?

“Planet Earth’s on a path of obliteration.

And I refuse to believe that

we can help humankind survive self-destruction.

I realize this may be a shock, but

our diverse and inclusive global society can live in harmony

is a lie.  The reality is that

“Humans are incapable of caring for each other & planet Earth”

within three decades, global warming will destroy our planet.

I do not concede, that 

planet Earth and civilization can be saved.

in the future,

ongoing senseless and brutal world wars will be inevitable.

No longer can it be said, that

you and I will find a way to reach for the stars and beyond.

It will be evident, that

humans are selfish, indifferent and greedy.

It is foolish to presume, that 

There is Hope (Credit:  Tom Vassos)

Or do we see ourselves, our neighbors, and the future of our world by  reading the above statement backwards?  Do we speak the language of an Easter people—the language of faith and hope?

The Vacation

 THE VACATION (“an extended period of leisure and recreation, especially one spent away from home or in traveling”) for my brother and me was booked in November 2024—a 12-day cruise to the Southern Caribbean—visiting the islands of St. Croix, St. Maarten, St. Lucia, Dominica, and St. Kitts.  We invited our sister and her husband to join us.  We had a wonderful time together.  The “vacation” was good therapy for me following my daughter Rachel’s 3-month ordeal in the hospital and rehab.   Rachel returned  home the day before we left for the cruise.  

One of the lecturers onboard the ship was Tom Vassos, who unveiled the infinite cosmos in which we are but a grain of sand.  His talks reminded me of the hymn:  “How big is God, how big and wide His vast domain.  To try to tell, these lips can only start.  He’s big enough to rule His mighty universe, yet small enough to live within my heart.”

Unto Us A Child Was Born

Merry Christmas to all who should happen to read this blog and a very Happy Birthday to our youngest son, Luke.  Some might say Luke was born “the day after Christmas” which sounds so anti-climatic and piddling.  And it just isn’t so!  There is nothing anti-climactic or piddling about Luke, in his birth, or in the journey he has traveled since.  Luke was born on the Second Day of Christmas!  Doesn’t that sound a whole lot better?  I think so.  

Luke posted the following on FB on March 24, 2024:

"Hey friends, I had my first colonoscopy a few weeks ago, followed by a cancer diagnosis the next day.  I had no symptoms, it was a routine screening.  It's been an absolutely surreal time, and I want to be clear that I can't answer questions about this because I just don't have much more information.  I've been scanned and poked, and that will continue over the next few weeks.  No treatment plan has been decided on yet, but it sounds like there will be chemo, radiation, and possibly surgery.  I'm not super comfortable sharing this, but it's what's happening and I think it's an important PSA."

Luke posted a "Cancer Update: on May 8, 2024:

"Two months ago, the day after my first colonoscopy, I was diagnosed with rectal cancer.  It was invasive cancer, they said, so they searched the rest of my body for signs of more cancer, and they found nothing.  Stage one.

The next step, they said, was to have surgery to remove a bunch of my insides where cancer might make a home for itself in the future.  I had already kicked off a second opinion at this point, and both providers recommended surgery.

And so I met with a surgeon at Mayo in Phoenix, who, instead of scheduling me for surgery like I expected, wanted to reassess everything up to this point, especially the biopsy that led to the original diagnosis.  This whole process lasted several agonizing weeks, but the end result feels miraculous:

No surgery needed, just an examination every three months.  And even better, the Mayo docs don't think I had invasive cancer in the first place.  Their opinion is that the first diagnosis was a mistake.  I had cancer, but not the kind that had already invaded my vascular system or lymph nodes."  

Unto us a child was born forty-seven years ago on this Second day of Christmas!  What a gift!  My “Dad’s Heart” is overwhelmed with gratitude and love for Luke today.

Those Little Red Shoes

In 2015 we traveled to Wales where Liam and Katie were attending the University of Bangor.  I wrote then, “We are here with our Katie Maria—whose spirit made the French Alps sing for us while visiting her in Grenoble, France, last year—and that same beautiful spirit will make the hills of Wales sing for us now!”

“It seems like only yesterday that I wrote:  “I’m basking in the “joy” of the Joys this morning.  Liam and Katherine Maria Joy of England (via FaceTime) shared that joy with us yesterday.  They are expecting their first child in November.  This anticipated joy of the Joys will be our third great grandchild.”

“Elodie—the joy of the Joys—is now two years old.  We’ve only met via FaceTime.  COVID and MomMom’s illness have prevented our travel across the pond and a face-to-face meeting.  Yesterday, Katie called to share once again the joy of the Joys. They are expecting their second child (our fourth great grandchild) in late July. The joy of the Joys gives me great joy!”

“Katie and I were talking on the phone back in February (2023).  She told me Elodie was wondering why her Grandad did not pick her up after school.  That was the moment I decided to make this present trip back to England—for the sole purpose of being available to pick Elodie up from school.  Today that is going to happen!

Immediately after that February telephone call with Katie, I called my brother to see if he might want to travel with me again.  He called back the next morning saying “Yes!”  And here we are!  TODAY I will pick Elodie up from school.”

“Elodie,” Katie texted just a week or so ago, “has been saying she is the only leftie in her class and I was telling her about other famous people who are lefties (Barack Obama, Leonardo da Vinci, etc) and she said ‘I don’t know those guys but I do know the most important leftie…Grandad!’”

“Photos of my great grandchildren are not posted on social media.  Last year (2022), however, I posted a photo of Elodie’s “little Red Shoes.”  I do so again (2023), because those little Red Shoes speak volumes.” 

I thank God for the gift of Liam and Katie, for the joys of the Joys, and for the Little Red Shoes that remind all of us to dance—“out into the street, and carry us over the mountains and valleys, through fields and forests, through night and day. “Time rushes by, love rushes by, life rushes by, but the red shoes go on!” (The Red Shoes, by Hans Christian Andersen)

 A Meditation:  Unutterable Love (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

I “had a solitary, thoughtful hour,” this morning, wrote Emerson as he journeyed by ship across the Atlantic in 1833.

“The clouds were touched

And in their silent faces might be read

Unutterable love.”

The clouds “shone with light that shines on Europe, Africa, and the Nile, and I opened my spirit’s ear to their most ancient hymn.”

The sea-gull, the waves of the ocean, the rising mists, the wind, “under that arch of light…are works of art better worth your enthusiasm,” than all the masterpieces of Europe.  Emerson experienced “Unutterable love” in what he called “these masterpieces of Eternal power…” He realized in that moment that “You need not go far to seek what ye would not seek at all if it were not within you.”

Oh, the Absurdity....

 

President Joe Biden (yes, he is president of the United States, winning both the popular vote and the electoral college vote in the 2020 election) is 81 years old.  So am I.  Either of us could have a stroke, a heart attack, or die any minute.  But, then, so  can those who are only 50, or 55, or 60.

Biden's activities before last Thursday’s debate with candidate Donald Trump (yes, candidate, former president, twice impeached, and adjudicated felon) was rather amazing.  He flew across the pond in early June for a state visit in Paris, attended the 80th anniversary of the D-Day landings in WWII, and met with Ukrainian President Zelensky.   The following week he flew across the pond again for the G-7, held a joint news conference with President Zelensky, met with the Italian Prime Minister, the pope and other leaders.   He then flew to Los Angeles for a campaign fundraiser (June 15).  He took a few days off to rest up in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware.   (I would definitely need that!)  For six days he was sequestered at Camp David  to prepare for the debate on June 27th.  The debate was a flop—for both the president and Mr. Trump.  But, then, what's so important about a 90-minute debate?

The pundits are having a heyday with Joe Biden’s age since that debate.  They have ignored the other guy, who happens to be only 3 years younger,  and who, during the debate, lied repeatedly, never answered a single question with clarity, and continually belittled, demeaned and disrespected his opponent and the United States of America.  (Maybe belittling, demeaning, disrespecting doesn’t mean much anymore, but it means a whole lot to 81-year olds).

Some (like the New York Times editorial board) are calling for the president to step down because of his age.  Where are the demands for the other candidate to step down—because of his age, his lies, his character, his announced intentions to punish those who oppose him, his criminal conviction, etc. etc. etc.?   I’m 81 years old!  Age  isn't the problem here (especially with only three years separating the president and Mr. Trump).   To make it the problem is absolutely absurd!

  

Paul's Day

 Today is my eldest son’s birthday.  Paul was born in “Wild and Wonderful West Virginia.”  I was a junior in college and we were living in a 35 x 8-foot trailer on the college campus.  Paul’s first bedroom was a wardrobe closet in that trailer where the “porta-crib” just barely fit. 

“Swiftly flow the days…One season following another…”.   

Henri J.M. Nouwen wrote:  Birthdays need to be celebrated. I think it is more important to celebrate a birthday than a successful exam, a promotion, or a victory. Because to celebrate a birthday means to say to someone: “Thank you for being you.” Celebrating a birthday is exalting life and being glad for it. On a birthday we do not say: “Thanks for what you did, or said, or accomplished.” No, we say: “Thank you for being born and being among us.”

On birthdays we celebrate the present. We do not complain about what happened or speculate about what will happen, but we lift someone up and let everyone say: “We love you.”